Erik (Knights Wrath MC #5)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I love how you make sure I’m taken care of. You pick up the groceries you know I like but insist on more vegetables than just potatoes. You always make sure we have my favorite creamer in the house even though you drink your coffee black. Come to think of it, you did that for as long as I can remember. You’ve taken care of me even when I didn’t realize you were.

~Text from Erik to Grant

Erik

The smell of smoldering flesh still hangs in the air. Nobody has come in here in hours. Or at least it feels like hours. The brands on my legs feel like they’re still on fire. The window shows it’s light out again, which tells me it’s been at least close to twenty-four hours since they grabbed me. They were in here for a while last night trying to get me to talk. I only gave up that there’s a reason Joseph only sold the land that he did and not the rest of it.

Between that and the realization that I was telling the truth about the life insurance policy that Celeste tried to offer part of to him, Taz stormed out of here losing his shit along the way.

I don’t know what they did with Celeste. I heard her screaming at them earlier, so I’m guessing they at least transported her somewhere else, though I’m having a really hard time giving a single fuck about her. I passed out around the time I stopped hearing her screams, so I don’t know if they left with her somewhere or where they’re at. I’m just thankful they’re not here.

I’ve been trying to undo my wrists, but when they branded my legs they moved my arms, tying each one to the arm of the chair. My right wrist hurts like a son of a bitch since the big goon Lennie bent it backward to get me to move where he wanted me. My left is not as agile, so trying to get it to loosen the rope is more than a challenge.

I finally feel like it’s starting to slightly loosen when I hear voices approaching. I can’t make out who they are, but I doubt it would be anyone I want to see. I doubt Braxton has had a chance to go down the hill far enough to get a signal to call someone. I really hope he was telling the truth and not selling me a pack of lies.

The voices are coming closer, and there’s a rustling outside the door. Someone is pounding on the door, like they don’t have a key. A few more pounds on the door and it breaks open, splintering under the pressure.

I’m speechless at who walks in the door. “Glad to see you’re still with us. Time to get you outta here.”

Grant

Rory broke down the door with the help of Saxon and Jeremiah. The first one through the door is Jon, and after hearing what he says, I know Erik’s at least conscious. I push past Rory and some of the other brothers and rush inside. I see my man, and I almost tear up. He’s alive, we found him, and we’re going to get him out of here, but he’s hurt. I drop to my knees in front of him and reach up, barely touching his bruised and battered face. “We’re gonna get you outta here and get you some help, babe.” I can’t help but lean forward and give him a kiss to reassure myself that he’s okay. I reach for one of his hands as Jeremiah reaches for the other one. I start to untie him but Erik’s breath hitches when I go to touch his wrist. Fuckers hurt his wrist. “Someone give me a fucking knife right now!” Leif appears and hands me a knife. I slice through the ropes that tie his hand to the chair and make quick work of the one holding his leg on my side. I hand the knife to Jeremiah, and he cuts the rope around Erik’s other leg, having already gotten his hand free. He stands back up. “Let’s get you out of here, Dad.”

Erik tries to stand up but starts to buckle. Jeremiah and I each move and grab one of his arms, being careful not to hurt his wrist, but something causes him to groan in pain. I look down, and what I see has me wanting to go kill every one of those fuckers. I can see they burned him through his jeans in at least a couple of spots. I look over, and I see Jeremiah looks like he’s about to ask his dad. I shake my head slightly.

“Leif, go make sure they’ve got a truck close. I don’t want your dad to have to walk very far.” He runs out of the room. We slowly make our way to the door, but I can tell Erik’s hurting and having trouble walking. At the doorway stands Rory, who watches us step outside. He moves in and takes Jeremiah’s place, and Jon takes mine, both of them being giants. It lets Erik’s legs just hang between them and he doesn’t have to try and walk anymore. “Leif is pulling one of the trucks up closer so we can get him in and get him to the hospital.”

Erik pipes up. “No hospital. I don’t want to answer questions.” Jason, who came with us, speaks up. “You won’t get questions if I escort you in.” Jonah, who’s standing outside watching guard with some of the other brothers, chimes in, “Look at you, brother, getting your own escort and everything. Besides, you know your sister is gonna demand you get checked out at least.” I will gladly let Linnea take the blame for that, but fuck if I don’t agree with her. I don’t want him to get an infection or anything because I have a feeling his jeans are hiding the worst of it.

Leif pulls his truck up in front of us and hops out to help. “Let’s put Dad in the back seat. It should be more comfortable if he can lie down.” Jon and Rory get Erik in the back seat, and I move to the other side of the truck to hop in the back with him when Jonah hops in the front seat. As soon as I open the back door, I hear shouting, and I see the fuckers coming around the building. I slam the door shut and yell to Leif, “Go! Get him down the mountain! Get him to the hospital, and we’ll be right behind you.” The truck tears out, going probably way too fast, but gets out of sight before the fuckers can do anything. I reach around to grab my gun. I see Jeremiah next to me doing the same.

Right now, I count seven of them, though one is Spade. The one in front seems to be their leader. He’s screaming and waving his hands all over the place. He points the gun at Jonah and asks, “How the fuck did you find him? How the hell did you know to look all the way up here? We smashed his fucking phone and everything.” Juan, who’s been quieter than I think I’ve ever seen him, breaks that streak. “You didn’t keep looking after you found his work phone. He had his personal phone on him. It was pretty fucking easy to find his location. I’m thinking if this is how you half-ass everything, then it’s no wonder how you're running your club into the ground and are in debt up to your ears.”

The guy Braxton referred to as Taz looks like a fish with a shocked look on his face and his mouth opening and closing as he’s at a loss for words. Juan continues talking. “What? Do you think you stay off of the web, and I can’t find out shit about you? Huh, Barnaby?” The use of his real name has him shooting his gun up in the air. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up! That ain’t my fucking name!”

Samson, knowing the same shit Juan does, adds in a jibe of his own. “Oh, you mean like how Joseph’s name was really Herbert?” Samson chuckles, and I know that means he ain’t done talking yet. “It’s amazing how easy it can be to invalidate legal documents when a person’s legal name isn’t used, and it’s not stated that they’re using an alias. Shame that your uncle did that.”

Watching him, you can see the moment it all clicks in, and he realizes what he’s being told, and in the same moment, he sees just how outnumbered they are. He starts yelling out orders to his men. “String, Lennie, it’s time to skedaddle.” All of a sudden, a couple of his guys start shooting and he turns around and runs off. We return fire, hitting at least a couple of them, though one I know that’s hit manages to run off. Jon and some of the younger brothers run after them around the bend. I can hear shots continuing to be fired so I follow with Jackson, Ben, Wyatt, and Mike. Jason follows too.

As soon as we turn the corner, Jason’s shot in the arm. Mike grabs him and pulls him back around where we came from. We all have our guns out and ready to shoot, but that must’ve been a parting shot because any of them that are standing and still moving have hopped in the back of a truck and are hightailing it off the mountain. There are two of their guys slumped on the ground. Saxon goes to check on them and the first one is gone. He goes to check the second one, and he must be breathing because he turns him over and shouts out, “It’s Spade! He’s hit but breathing. We gotta get him outta here.” Jeremiah and a couple other brothers run over and help Saxon. He yells out for someone to go get another truck. Rory takes off to grab his truck. I look around and realize we probably are lucky with just the hits we take when Jeremiah makes a sound and crumples to his knees next to Braxton. I hurry over and see that he’s been hit in the side. I take off my flannel and press it to his side. He looks at me and gives me a shit-eating grin. “Chicks dig scars, don’t they?” I can’t help but chuckle. “That they do, Son, that they do.”

Rory pulls up with his truck, and Mick pulls up with his. We get Braxton loaded up along with Jason and Jeremiah. One truckload of brothers is going to stay back and clean up the situation. Before I hop in the truck, I look at Jackson. “You know, maybe this time the bonfire needs to include a fucking building.” His expression shows he knows exactly what I mean. “Brother, I think it’s time for a hell of a fire.” Time to get down the mountain and to see my man. Gonna take care of him today and for the rest of our days.